


The More He Saw

by Ceares



Series: Strigidae [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: A/U, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceares/pseuds/Ceares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are only a few ways for witches to expel the kind of excess power Reid pulled on to take down the UnSub. Fight, flight or fuck. It'll burn itself out in a couple of days without intervention but Reid once described the experience like going cold turkey. Morgan is not about to let him go through that alone -- not again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The More He Saw

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to Felicia as always for audiencing. The prequel to The Less He Spoke.

Reid is illuminated in the flashing lights, so pale that he takes on the red and blue hues as they watch the ambulance pull away with the last of the victims, the only survivor. The local LEOs will be processing the scene for a while but really, all that's left is the wrap up and the PBAU isn't needed for that.

"You okay?"

Reid nods. "Yes, just"

"Still wired?" Derek reaches out and the jolts of power make his hair stand on end before he even touches Reid. He ignores the pain as he wraps his hand around Reid's arm, fingers sliding down to his wrist and gripping tightly even as Reid tries to pull away from him.

"Morgan, you don't have to."

J.J. is out of the question. They spar sometimes after a case -- hand to hand skill levels about even -- but that’s when Reid has a normal level of power to burn off. JJ is not only human, she's pregnant again and Reid would never risk her like that. Emily is staying behind until the victim regains consciousness -- they still need to question her, even with the UnSub dead. Another witch would just compound the problem, not relieve it, so Garcia is out. Morgan knows Reid would be too uncomfortable to go to Rossi or Hotch, never obtaining with either of them the kind of intimacy he'd had with Gideon. That just leaves him.

"Yeah, you're right, Pretty Boy. I should just let you spend the next seventy two hours lit up like a Christmas tree." There are only a few ways for witches to expel the kind of excess power Reid pulled on to take down the UnSub. Fight, flight or fuck. It'll burn itself out in a couple of days without intervention but Reid once described the experience like going cold turkey. Morgan is not about to let him go through that alone -- not again. So. "How do you want to do this?"

Hotch comes over to them, eyes drifting briefly to where Morgan is still grasping Reid's arm. "Wheels up in sixty. You good?"

Morgan glances at Reid who is staring at the ground, faint tremors under his skin. He tightens his grip and nods at Hotch. "Gettin' there. We'll see you on the plane."

Hotch nods back once and leaves without looking back. Their fearless leader is happiest when they handle their own shit. Not that Morgan thinks in any way, shape or form that Hotch has a problem with Praets. He chose the PBAU, stayed with them when it would have been easier to move on to bigger and better things, but he has enough problems dealing with human emotions most of the time. All the added layers of Praet interaction, he happily passes on, unless he has no choice.

"There's a run a couple of miles from here."

Morgan stifles the flash of disappointment at Reid's choice, and concentrates on recalling exactly where they are in the city. He makes a point of knowing where and how many runs each city has. The one Reid is talking about is fairly large and even though it's late, it could still be pretty populated. "Is that safe?"

"I should smell like danger to any strange wolves. They'll head the other way."

He lets Reid go, almost missing the constant low thrum of energy that connected them. “Let’s go, we’re on the clock.”

 

 

Despite the late hour, the run has a nice gathering of cars in the parking lot. There are little clusters of people talking, some parked at various tables, scarfing down huge meals. They get plenty of looks when they get out of the car, some curious, more wary. They move quickly and efficiently, stripping down and locking their belongings in the car. Reid was right. Some of the groups pull back as soon as they get a good look at Reid who’s practically radiating his own light at this point. As soon as they move close enough for the other Praets to get a good whiff, the crowd around the entrance starts to thin.

Some of Derek’s tension eases. The last thing he’s in the mood for tonight is a fight and while that would work for Reid, somebody would wind up hurt. He glances at Reid who grins at him, sharp and challenging and he finds the wolf rising in response, almost involuntarily. If he thought he’d have a problem letting go enough for this to work, he was clearly wrong.

He grins back, all teeth. “Ready?” His claws drop and he’s reaching out, slashing across Reid’s arm, just enough to blood him. Derek’s nostrils flare as the smell surges over him, thick enough to taste in the back of his throat. He shudders.

Reid makes a guttural sound, his own hand going up to cover the wound and it’s gone in a flash but it doesn’t matter because Derek’s got the scent. Reid’s turns and he’s gone from one heartbeat to the next. Derek hasn’t ever seen him move that fast and it just stirs the wolf more. He doesn’t have time for a full shift as he takes out after Reid. He let’s go just enough for his senses to sharpen and the wolf to guide the hunt.

 

They run. A small part of Derek’s senses are attuned to any intrusion but just like at the front of the run, Reid’s power keeps the area clear. He doesn’t try and mask his scent, cloaks his body among the trees, in shadow and wood rather than magic but still he stays just tantalizingly outside of Derek’s reach. That only spurs the hunter in him. His heart drums a loud beat, breath coming in fast pants as he sees movement out of the corner of his eye and breaks left. 

Reid freezes and in that split second it’s too late. He tries to get away but Derek lunges, flipping them over as they tumble to the ground so that he takes the brunt of the impact. As soon as they hit though, he flips them again, pinning Reid’s slender body under his. He opens his mouth, teeth sinking lightly into Reid’s jugular, feeling the pulse throb under his tongue. Reid groans and arches up and he’s hard, cock a brush of hot silk against Derek’s stomach.

An answering wave of heat shudders through Derek, his own cock filling in response and he bites down harder, sweat salt and soft skin and the faint coppery tang of blood filling his mouth as he breaks the skin. Reid moans louder, hands coming up around Derek’s back, his nails digging stinging trenches into the shoulder blades. The pain jolts him enough to remember that this wasn’t the plan. He pulls back reluctantly. Reid’s skin is now ruddy with arousal, eyes closed, mouth pink and wet, open slightly and Derek wants to find out if his mouth is as soft as it looks. He hesitates though. It’s easy to let go in the chase, lose yourself in the rush and Derek needs to know that Reid knows what he’s doing and isn’t just caught up. 

“Reid. _Spencer_. You with me, here?”

Reid’s eyes open and they’re filled with equal parts lust and mischief as he grins up at Derek. “Ahead of you actually, Agent Morgan.” He reaches up and pulls Derek’s mouth down to his. 

Derek catches up fast, and yeah, Reid’s mouth is as soft as it looks. An hour ago he had no idea how Reid tasted and now it’s like he’s always known. 

 

 

He’s just glad that there are no more Praets on the plane with them, otherwise it would come out in less time than it took them to take off. As it is, Hotch and Rossi give them strange looks. Though to be fair that could be because they sit at opposite ends of the nearly empty cabin. Reid opens a book and appears to be completely engrossed while Derek puts his headphones and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the way he can smell _them_ all over himself. It’s going to be a long flight.


End file.
